


What Had Been

by Lif61 (UltimateFandomTrash)



Series: SPN Hiatus Creations 2020 [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Codependent Winchesters (Supernatural), Gen, POV Dean Winchester, SPN Hiatus Creations 2020, Samulet (Supernatural), week 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24595339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltimateFandomTrash/pseuds/Lif61
Summary: Ever since Sam gave Dean that amulet it's meant the world to him, but what happens when his world is shattered?
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Series: SPN Hiatus Creations 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1750201
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	What Had Been

**Author's Note:**

> Written for week 4 of SPN Hiatus Creations 2020 on tumblr. Prompt: favorite object.

“Where did you get that?” John demanded, pointing at the necklace around Dean’s neck.

Dean instantly wrapped his fist around the amulet to hide it. While he wanted to cave in on himself, maybe hide, he straightened his back, knowing he _had_ to. “It’s nothing, sir,” he responded.

“Let me see it,” his dad demanded, hand out.

Dean had half a mind to hide the necklace in his shirt, but instead, he unwrapped his fist from the amulet, and pulled it off and over his head. The amulet dangled on the black string as he held it out to his father. John took it. He studied it a bit, brows furrowed, and then muttered, “I didn’t get this for you.”

For some reason Dean knew he shouldn’t lie. It was in his best interest to tell the truth, even if his dad might be in one of his moods — he _had_ been drinking for at least two hours now. Sam was in the motel bathroom, taking a shower, so he was missing the entire conversation.

“Sammy did,” Dean said. “You weren’t here for Christmas, so Sam got me a present.”

“Are you smart-mouthing me, boy?”

Dean did his best to straighten his back even more, till an ache went up his spine. “No, sir.”

John turned it over in his fingers, then tossed it back to Dean. He put the beer bottle in his other hand to his mouth as he shambled away.

“You can keep it.”

Dean fumed. It wasn’t in his dad’s power to take Sammy’s gift away from him.

Lightning struck in the sky, thunder rumbling across the open plain, and rain pattered down hard on the roof of the motel they were in. Their dad was out, hunting a thing called Bloody Bones. Another name for it was a Rawhead. There was a shotgun under the bed in case Dean had to use it. John had told them to be on their guard. But Sam was asleep.

In the dark night interrupted with brilliant flashes of violent power, Dean lay beside Sam in the bed, fiddling with the amulet. It was something he caught himself doing when he was bored, or sometimes nervous. For some reason it was comforting.

The sky flashed purple-white, and then was followed by a boom that seemed to shake the earth. Sam awoke, startled, and Dean put a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, I’m here. I’m here.”

Sam calmed, and rested back against Dean.

“Dean, when is Dad coming back?”

“I don’t know, Sammy. Here.” He took off the amulet and handed it to Sam.

“But it’s yours,” his little brother reasoned.

“It is, but you know what? It keeps me safe, helps me when I’m afraid.”

“It’s just a storm,” Sam reasoned.

“Yeah, but we know what’s really out there.”

Sam gently pushed Dean’s hand away, and told him in the dark room, “Then I want it to keep you safe.”

Sammy said no more, and went back to sleep.

Tears blurred Dean’s vision, amulet swaying from his fist as he held it over the gas station trash can.

He’d left. He’d fucking left.

Sammy was gone.

Sure, they were both adults now, and it was _normal_ , it was fucking normal for Sam to go to college. But the splintering ache in Dean’s chest from dismay, betrayal, and grief didn’t feel that way.

Dean could understand wanting to leave Dad. Hell, he’d wanted to leave him so many damn times.

But Sam hadn’t just left Dad.

He’d left _him_. They hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye. Dean’s gut had plummeted as he heard the screaming match before he entered the motel room, and then Sam was gone.

Dean sniffled, and did his best to hold his tears in. Soldiers didn’t cry, Dad would say.

_Do it,_ he told himself. _Just do it._

He could do it. He could! Just let go, throw the amulet away, leave his brother behind.

Dean trembled, and the wind blew the amulet where it still hung over the trash. For some reason Dean noticed the paper towels in it, some empty soda cups with bent straws, a paper platter of unfinished cheese fries. A fly buzzed from little trash pile to little trash pile.

_“I got you, Dean. I’m not gonna leave,” Sam told him, words barely formed since he was still learning to speak. But he’d held Dean close, and Dean had held on tight._

_Of course he’d never leave, because Dean had Sam too._

_“I got you,” Dean murmured softly, pulling Sam in tighter in the empty motel room they’d been abandoned in. Some part of Dean knew it was only temporary, but they were alone. All they had were each other._

A liar. A goddamn, fucking liar!

Dean knew he couldn’t hold Sam to something he’d said when he was barely three, but he’d said it, right? So where was? Where _was he?_

_Not here,_ Dean told himself. _He’s not fucking here._

The horn of the 1967 Chevy Impala beeped, startling Dean enough that his shoulders tensed and rose a bit.

John’s impatient voice came out the window, “Sometime today, Dean.”

Dean was breathless, about to do it, about to let go of Sam, leave the amulet where their relationship was — in the trash.

But instead, he pulled it close, relief making a tear spill free.

Maybe Sam wouldn’t hold onto him, but Dean would hold onto Sam.

Dean wiped his face, and called, “Yeah, coming, Dad.”

Dean put the amulet back around his neck where it belonged.

Dean put the amulet around Sam’s neck the night Jessica died. He knew it was his, that Sam wouldn’t want him to give it to him, even temporarily, but his brother had gone into shock, worked himself into a frenzy, and then eventually passed out from exhaustion. He was in the passenger’s seat of the Impala, face still drawn and haggard, as if grief and anger even touched him in his sleep.

Dean pat Sam’s chest, over the amulet, feeling the little horns press into the palm of his hands.

“We’ll get through this, Sam. You and me. The way it’s supposed to be.”

_“We’ll get through this, Sam. You and me. The way it’s supposed to be.”_

Dean remembered that night, those words, as he held the amulet over a trash can for the second time in his life.

Anger took those words and cut them up.

“We’ll find another way,” Sam had said. “We can still stop all this, Dean.”

“How?”

“I don’t know, but we’ll find it. You and me, we’ll find it.”

Strong words for a guy whose favorite memories were all about running away and leaving Dean behind. Strong words for a guy who hadn’t come back when he’d left Dean beaten on the floor. Strong words for a guy who didn’t believe in Dean.

Dean had had enough of believing in him.

Dean dropped the amulet in the trash can, and left the motel room, walking away from what had been.


End file.
